


Only If For A Night [Wick - Tim x Reader x Tom]

by QuietDoe



Category: Wick (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Hellbent Games, Horror, Lillian Weaver, Ritual, Tim Weaver, Timas Weaver, Tom Weaver - Freeform, Weaver - Freeform, Wick - Freeform, Wick - Video Game, Wick Game, Wick Video Game, one-sided
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-28 09:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13268313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietDoe/pseuds/QuietDoe
Summary: Silk cradled each eye as you twirled in darkness, leaves crunching under your feet. The stench of old bark and something comparable to decay burnt your nose and throat. 3... 2... 1... As the silk slipped down your cheeks, light blinded you to the forest surrounding. They left you. And now... You were left with only one option - play Wick.[Title to change][Reader is intended to be 14 btw!]Characters (c) Hellbent Games.





	1. 1, 2, Wick

"Ring around the rosie... 

Pocket full of posie...

Ashes...

Ashes...

We all 

Fall

DEAD!

~~~~

"Heheheh~!" Stomp, crunch, stomp.

"Shhh! Shut up! We'll get caught!" Push, pull, shove.

"Are you sure this'll work?" Leaning. Whispering.

"Heheh- Don't shove!"

 

"Oi! Keep your eyes closed!"

Beneath your feet was the satisfying crunch of loose branches and dead grass. Each eye was cradled in the darkness of cheap but think fabric wrapped around your head. The only solace - if you could call it that - was the murmurs of so-called 'friends' beside you. At this point, it just felt like the build up of a cheap scare from a B-movie. But who were you to question? You couldn't. Not really. You'd never admit it aloud but your heart pounded roughly against each rib. As you ventured further into the unknown, the familiar scent of rain mixed in with decay burned your nostrils. Being blindfolded almost felt like a temporary superpower - enhancing each remaining sense. In truth, you longed for your sight soon. Why did you agree to this nonsense again? Then you stopped.

First, a small and rough box. Matches. Next, something cylindrical. Smooth. Waxy. The candle. Now both hands were full. Keep them steady!

Like a sacrificial lamb, you fell the presence of each 'friend' circle you. God, you really hoped you weren't being duped into a sacrifice! Hands prodded and groped uncomfortably, and then you were slowly twirled. "Wick begins in 4 minutes - midnight. Player 4 is equip with matches and a candle." they almost chanted. Then they began to distance themselves from you. Slowly. Of course, they were leaving! It was only when they reached what sounded like a few meters away when they really turned heel and dashed off. "Survive until 6AM, we'll get you! Promise~!" Actually, you figured you'd be best off walking home after the 6 hours. Either that or camping out. Well... You could dream! You could dream.

3... 

As you slowly began to twirl again to fill the isolating void, you felt the soil below shuffle.

2...

Arms extended, you welcomed the night you'd not yet seen and felt the bitter chill that was the night wind.

1...

As the fabric grew loose, the moon's light contrasting the pitch blackness was almost too big of a transition for your eyes to handle. 

And now you were alone.

Candle in the right, matches in the left. First thing's first, sit and light the candle. FLICK! Burn. Now... Explore? They didn't explain much, but you knew you weren't going to sit in one spot for 6 whole hours! No way! So you stood and you walked. And walked. And walked. So far... Nothing. 'Any minute now-' you whispered mentally '-they're gonna jump me.'

... But they never. Not yet, anyways.

Trekking cautiously, you looked for anything that would prove or disprove the legends. For now, it was only trees. You'd persist. You had the time after all. Itself, the forest felt untouched as nature should. Trees stretched strong and full of life though lonesome. If it wasn't for the misplaced rotting smell, this would arguably be like any other forest. Maybe it was the scent of burning wood? No. This place looked too preserved. Burning. Fire. It WAS a fire that was rumored to have killed the Weaver's, right? At least, that's what your 'friends' had told you. Then that meant... This was a mind game! This was a mind game! A delusion molded by the shadows. No one else seemed to note the stench. It was just your mind. At least, that's what you'd hoped for. Yet something about this made your stomach churn uncomfortably.

 

9 minutes had passed now. It was 12:09AM aka 'Wick'. The wind picked up, whistling in your ears and threatening to blow out your light. The light you desperately shielded like a protective mother. Candles! That's right, you needed to light candles! How could you forget? Luckily, you could see one of the wax beauties 'shimmering' ahead. You jogged over quickly, panting slightly at the minor rush. 'Light the candle! Then the next!' You knelt down to do so before picking it up and discarding the old one. You'd felt a little bad littering BUT they did say these candles were moved by spirits! Mentally, you hoped this 'ghost janitor' would help you out. 

"Hahah! Fuck yeah!" A small celebration, punching the air. A TAD louder than you anticipated which nearly ended up startling yourself. Flicking your head up, the tree before you had a page attached "Ugh, really guys? This Slender BS?" RIP! You examined the piece. At the center was a frail but well dressed boy. School uniform and slick hair except his face was covered by a crude mockery of the theatrical comedy mask. Around him were the words 'Don't think just run'. Of course. Of course! You can't have 'SPOOKY FOREST SLENDER RIP-OFF!' without some alleged monster or proxy out for your soul. Hands like a Venus fly trap, you crushed the drawing "Nice try guys! But I'm NOT being scared by a kid in a mask!"

"Oh~?" 

"Well, you should be~" 

Phew-!

And with that, you were plunged into endless darkness...


	2. Midnight Surprise

Pitter, patter!

Gasp!

Pitter, patter!

Wheeze!

Pitter, patter!

Pant!

By now, the forest echoed with rapid footsteps mixed with your gasps and the rasps of whatever the hell was chasing you. What was that? WHO was that? Was it really... NO! No. The Weaver Children are only legends. They aren't real. Ghosts aren't real! It... CAN'T be. But your legs grew heavier with each stomp. Each gallop over stray branches. Chest burning with each breath. Your heart ran with you. In your ears, the booming of tribal drums followed you. Growing louder and louder! Gasping! Panting! Run, run, run! Clawing at your throat for any air. As the drums build up. Louder. Louder! Deafening! 

THUMP!

 

It was foolish to remain still. It was a death sentence! Yet... You felt too heavy to move. The world had fallen into silence once more. But he was gone. It had vanished. A brisk wind whistled as you finally mustered the strength to get up and dust off. 'What the hell was that...? Actually, I don't even know why I'm asking, I don't know.' 

Fuuush... "Aw crud..." The candle! The light you needed to desperately cling to was now extinguished on the ground in a melted mess. "Well, the puddle's no good." STRIKE! That was one match now gone to waste. Still, you weren't going to do much standing around.

The forest itself was rather winding, so you stuck to it's dirt path. Next, look for one of the 'moving candles'. In your journeys, you noted how lonely this place was. If - and only IF - the rumours were real, then this place really was haunted. It certainly looked haunted.

"Haunted woods, missing kids, pages stuck to trees... Slenderman - if that's really you - can you... Not?" Kicking up a dust cloud, you continued "I've only just moved here. I don't know these parts. Heck, I didn't even know of 'Wick' and some random ass missing kids until today! Go easy on me!"

"Give me another candle or something... Please?"

 

Nothing.

 

Ugh. Inhale.

"Pleaaaaaaaaaaaase? Pretty please with some squirty cream? Or whatever you eat - kids? No, I shouldn't say that here. Hey but I used my manners, so that deserves something... Right?" Only a brief whistle in the wind responded, whipping loose strains of your hair in your mouth and eyes "Please...?" you whimpered. All you needed to do was survive until 6, then you could forget this every happened and NEVER come back! Then you journeyed on, taking in more of the woods.

So far, you'd uncovered an unusual stone and a very unsteady bridge. It really wasn't a wise choice to cross either, but worth a shot! After all, there was still a relatively sturdy path ahead in the murky dark. Swallow. One foot first, then the next. Creaaaaaak, creaaaaaaak. Careful. Steady! There were countless gaps and hazards. Beneath was solid ground, no water. Fortunately, it would only be a short drop - but a painful one. Easy... Just a few more steps and ah-! Hopping on the other side, you continued your rabbit steps onward! Your heart fluttering sweetly. The old bridge giving you a childlike sense of adventure once more! Hahahah! It really WAS fun! Wandering more, an unlit campfire. Really, your heart should have plummented yet it didn't. Instead, the sickening sweet scent of roasted marshmallows ignited your senses. And the smell of burning wood. How the flames softly crackled as children told stories around the campfire. Spooky stories! Your lips pulled up into a goofy and sincere smile. Faster your heart fluttered. Fingertips prickled by both ecstasy and biting chills of the cold. Maybe... This place was this innocent. Surely no one would harm such innocent people. You joined in on the fond memory, plopping on one of the logs. Picking up a loose stick, you poked the imagined fire. "Who wants s'mores? Get 'em before there's no S'MORE!" Hah get it? No more - s'more! Sigh... This was pretty sad actually. Pretending you were someone else somewhere else. Reality was you were you and you were stuck alone in the woods, at midnight, playing a stupid game that no one believes in. Poke poke. Still the imagined warmth of fictional flames... They comforted you. Did. But something glimmered in your peripherals. Something behind the 'fire'. Reaching out carefully, your fingers brushed on something cold and-

"OW!" You jerked back roughly. Did it... Cut you? On your hand, a small trail of blood. "What the hell was that-...?" you voice strained. Reaching again, you leaned further back. Smooth. Slight crooks. Aha! Once you found a safe place to grip, you yanked it hastily. That's when you felt your blood freeze in your veins. Circulation cut! Nada! Nil! Because what you were holding was a small bloodstained knife. Now there wasn't enough blood to say it was used to kill anyone, but it's presence alone was... Unnerving. To say the least. 'Why is there blood...? Who's blood is this...?' your mind whimpered. It certainly wasn't any sort of knife you'd seen before. Turn the handle and bleed. Upon inspection, you saw something carved into the handle: 'Tim'. Was 'Tim' the owner of this unusually small blade? Did 'Tim'... HURT anyone? You shuddered at the thought. Getting up, you decided to hurry from this area. It was making your stomach churn painfully. But you felt inclined to take it with you. Hopefully, you wouldn't need to use it. Hopefully.

 

It had to be nearly half an hour when you stumbled across a boarded up well, a plush bunny sitting on top.. 'Hm, odd...' Why would they board up - wait, nevermind. ''Dead kids', remember?'

SNAP!

"AGH!" Spinning around quickly, you met with... Nothing.

 

"Heheheh~"

 

No, you DEFINITELY heard something! "G-Guys-?"

"I-If that's you, I'll...

I'll...

I'll...!"

 

"You'll what~?"

...

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" Letting out the most horrific shriek, you made yet another mad dash away from whatever the hell managed to sneak up from behind "Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!" That certainly didn't sound like anyone you knew. For all you knew it really could be a murderer playing on the Weaver Children myths! If so, that was pretty clever, but that now meant you really could get killed! Oh shit! You could die!

Rah! Wheeze... Gasp, pant!

It followed relentlessly, and it sounded mighty close! In your ears, it vibrated. Down the back of your neck, your hairs stood on end to a chilling yet warm breath. It's scent of decay, ashes and rot latching onto you. It was close! So close now... This was it. You were going to die alone in the woods, and for what? A stupid game? You should have been stronger. Should have said no- Then... it vanished. Again. You were alone. Again. But that was the final straw!

"Ok, that's it! I'm losing my fucking mind!" A loud confession, though more self comforting. This had to be a prank. It just had to be! Either that or a very persistent yet wavering hallucination.Or both. Yeah, that sounded about right. Luckily for you... A candle!Flickering before you like a Holy light. Delightfully, you lit it. Naturally. Just 6 hou- who were you kidding? You should go home! No one needs to know, surely! Yeah! Home it was. You'd had enough. Your heart was pounding so fast you were certain that anymore meant you would die of a cardiac. This was it. Standing up with the candle...

THUNK!

"Ah!" What was that!? Did something... Fall out of the tree? A bird, no. Too heavy. A large branch? You couldn't make one out. A pers- A person?

Slowly, something rose from the ground like a zombie. Too slow to be a dazed animal. Too animate to be a branch. It was too dark! You squinted but to no avail. It even hurt trying to make out the queer figure.

... Would you dare?

Well... you didn't have much of a choice. Looking from the flame to the figure before you, you carefully held the candle out the illuminate the way. This was such a bad idea... And it really REALLY made you feel sick...

Oh

My

God...

It was... Real... It was real! It was REAL! Before you stood the thin frame of a boy. Watching you. Observing you. Like some sort of rat in a cage. Like this was funny! The best way to describe him was simply another era. A white shirt, green tie, and a green checkered and sleeveless pullover vest. His hair seemed very prim and proper to suit. Almost too fancy. Like a poor prank. But that honestly wasn't what caught your attention first... Was it? No, it was that white grinning mask, as though designed to mock you. In a way, it was reminiscent of a comedy mask in theatre. It made your bone rattle. You breathing hitch. Freezing you too the spot. Come on (Y/N)! Look at him! He's a freaking STICK! Not to mention he looked too clean to be an alleged 'murdered' child! But the knife flashed in your mind again as you stared off like cowboys ready to draw their revolvers. 

Without thinking, the words tumbled out "A-Are you... T-Tim...?"

It was like this world was unresponsive to you.

"... A-Are you...?" Gulp! You couldn't hold back "I-I'm... (Y-Y/N). But you probably know that... R-Right? 'C-Cause this is just a joke that my friends made... Well it's not funny anymore..." He tilted his head quizzically. Then nonchalantly, he proceeded forward, hands folded behind his back. "H-Hey-! A-Answer me!" This had gone too far!

"Answer me, you- you.... F-FREAK!" He stopped. And you weren't entirely sure whether that was a GOOD thing either. Again, you stared each other off into the dark. You candle whittling away in the palms of your clammy hands. You wanted to scream at him! Desperately plea that this was far enough! You get it! Jokes on the new girl. The boy lowered himself like a spider.

RAH!

He cried, lunging at you with unimaginable speed as you shrieked in the night. Before you darted off, you made sure to lob the candle at him as hard as you can! You even heard the thump - which you'd laugh at if you weren't two seconds away from death! 

Panting, whimpering. You screamed for him to stop! It was his inhuman groans and whines that rattled in your ears. Trembling, you pushed your body to it's limits. 'Gotta get out of here! Where the hell is the gate!?' The lump in your throat rose as he closed in. You were dead! You were so dead! You couldnt run any longer. You needed to breathe. In insides of your throat scratched and burned with each gasp.

DONG!

 

Then it was over. Within a blink, you 'awoke' in a new area of the woods. The boy, gone. No rasps or whines. No chilling sensation of observation. Nothing.

Before you, a single lit candle, one match and another page. You checked your watch - the bulky cheap on your 'friends' made you wear. 1:00AM. 1 hour, just one. Only one. Already you were exhausted and dazed. In all honesty, you didn't think you could make it another hour, let alone 5 more. This was it.

There was no going back.

No Way Out.


End file.
